


serendipitous silver (glorious gold)

by sangiebyheart



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Poetic Porn, Porn with Feelings, Roommates, Walking In On Someone, get this friends it's, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangiebyheart/pseuds/sangiebyheart
Summary: But there is one call, one word, that has him cease in his attempts at flight, wave him back from his walk of shame before Yunho could bow his head and retreat to his room.“Yunho…”A broken whimper, and Yunho feels his soul leaving his body. How Yunho’s vivid imagination believes it to be an amusement to play such devastating tricks on him right now, is beyond Yunho’s comprehension, especially as all of his brainpower is currently otherwise occupied to keep Yunho from combusting on the spot.“Yunho, please…”Or, in which a sleepless night has Yunho discover his best friend masturbating, moaning his name, and what else can he do, if not join the fun?
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi
Comments: 24
Kudos: 121





	serendipitous silver (glorious gold)

**Author's Note:**

> adult yungi nation.  
> today I present you porn with feelings.  
> tomorrow, who knows?
> 
> much MUCH MUCH thanks to celly, who has helped me A LOT during the entire sex scene, I would not have endured as strongly as I did without you. ilu <3
> 
> now.  
> enjoy.

Best friendship offers up an abundance of privileges over a good amount of time. Of that, Jeong Yunho is certain after he has spent countless years by Song Mingi’s side, plans to do so for many more, and he is aware of their bond so special, his heart beats fast in his chest, happiness and content a mighty force to keep it going, going, going.

He does not lend much thought beyond their friendship, not willingly, as he knows that there is no room for dreams in the daylight. And although he has kept his feelings locked away beneath flesh and rationality, they rise to the surface at the most inopportune moments, when Yunho finds himself distracted and vulnerable, and suddenly, there is another companion to watch out for; loud and annoying and uncaring for ensuing distress in Yunho’s day.

It is short-lived, however, when he knows he can turn to Mingi anytime without having to worry about unnecessary feelings getting in the way of honest, heartfelt conversation, of fun that might just go a little too far sometimes, but Yunho would not trade what he has with Mingi for the world, not for a life where those romantic illusions in his head - however rare they tend to be - are either reality or of no concern at all.

For he is glad that he and Mingi have what they have, tread fate’s path as they wish to in this life and no other, because they must make the most of what is granted to them - to deny himself the delights and joys of a best friend so precious, in favor of unrealistic dreams not meant for this life, Yunho would be a fool to let it go to waste.

So, he breathes through the moment, and carries on.

He cannot ignore that it gets harder, much harder, to pretend his heart is not swelling with such enormous love that is ready to fill his whole chest, grasp at his insides, and call the shots, too, when upon a hot summer’s day in their mid-twenties, Yunho and Mingi decide on the smartest financial choice of their lives; moving in together.

It makes sense, Yunho reasons with himself; neither of them has the financial means to afford a fancy flat on their own, and more importantly, when have the two of them not gotten along splendidly as one or the other spent days upon weeks in their company, if only after stacking excuses to stay atop another, unneeded in the grand scheme of things, though important to them to maintain the comfort they share. 

Yunho has known Mingi ever since they had both been toddlers, their mothers old friends themselves, so it had been natural for them to be drawn to one another, to never let go even as they grew older, went to school then university, facing those hardships together - solitude, loneliness, all foreign words to both of them, because even in disputes and conflicts, they were willing to listen, willing to see beyond the anger attempting to cloud their vision and conceal heart’s yearning, and so in the end, they found each other in the same manner as before, even if a fight dragged into eternity.

With life after university comes a new disruption to a routine crafted after many years in the throws of education, one that has Mingi in the midst of an internship at an infamous fashion magazine to pursue his career as a fashion journalist, and Yunho making hesitant steps into a teaching position at an elementary school, hoping to motivate a new generation to become kind and responsible people.

Coming home to your biggest support system, the one person who knows your ins and your outs, who does not judge whether you arrive with the greatest smile or treacherous eyes swollen red from salty tears - arms open either way, in greeting and in warmth, giving a blessing at the end of a day when it is needed the most.

Yunho has decided long ago that the little devil on his shoulder is best to be ignored, no matter how demonic his cackles ring around Yunho’s brain as Yunho loops his arms and his soul with Mingi’s to unwind from a stressful day of work - his sole hope is Mingi’s unhearing ears, his unseeing eyes, so he can pretend for a while longer that the devil is not growing in size at the same speed as his heart, threatening to unravel and spill its entire content on a platter for Mingi to discard - for it may not be good enough in other lights than friendship, which Yunho is aware of, more and more and more with every passing minute that red claws leave scratches over his insides.

In another life, Yunho tells himself - in another life, though certainly not this one, is he afforded the luxury of Mingi as his romantic life partner. This one has him destined to stay by his side as a friend, no more, and he should never try to reach higher than his height, ask for more than he is allowed.

He is told to ask, several times. After all, how does he know that there truly is no chance of fortune such as this? Why does he resign himself to wait for another life to ask for what he so desires in this one?

Sometimes, Yunho believes the answer lies in the treasure of the eye smile Mingi has no reserves to offer him, upon request, upon happenstance, upon his very own nature; there is something so uniquely addictive about it, and Yunho knows he is not the only subject to such impossible charm. He takes what he can get and he gives back tenfold, for Song Mingi deserves nothing short of the world.

Yunho may not be fully happy, but he cannot say that he is unhappy, either; he is content to just be, if that is what fate has in store for him and Mingi. 

The reward for his patience lies in wait.

Some nights, the full moon stands high in the sky, bright and wonderful, and it makes Yunho lose much-valued sleep. He is on his feet from dawn till dusk, spreading his smiles and grins to happy recipients, but energy cannot be created out of thin air, and Yunho especially relies on a full night’s sleep to get through the gentle difficulties of his work life.

He wanders the halls of their apartment as a restless ghost, on those nights where slumber escapes him before he has any luck chasing after it, brews a tea when he has not yet come to the conclusion that it will bring him no more comfort, and more often than not, he stares up at the moon in a silent question, asking what he has done to offend it for it to rob him of his share at dormancy.

It gives no reply, of course not; Yunho is a creature beneath high status, but he does not blame the moon to dedicate its precious hours to the tides and the animals, those who are not disturbed by the moon’s appearance but rather dependant on it.

So, Yunho gravitates from their kitchen to their living room, then back into his room until he cannot stand the place any longer, resuming his sluggish pace through the hallway, passing Mingi’s room once, twice, hopes he does not wake him up in the process. Mingi will sleep through most anything, Yunho has found, even his unsteady wanderings, though he would find it most disagreeable to his standards should he be the cause of the untimely awakening of a princess.

And yet, it appears as though it was out of his hands entirely - for as he walks by Mingi’s room for the umpteenth time tonight, heavy, agitated pants of distress are heard through the door and it has Yunho pause in his steps, alert with pricked ears, and he waits to identify a possible source of what might be plaguing Mingi at such late hour - a nightmare, perhaps, something that has Mingi toss around in his bed to run from an imaginary enemy.

Yunho’s hand grips the door handle in preparation to wake Mingi, to free him from those troubles that make his rest not much of a rest at all, instead transforming it into hell on earth, burning beneath his skin as his body lies in relative safety.

It is a whimper that ultimately lifts the veil on the true purpose behind the noises Mingi makes - such a sweet sound, high and fragile, a clear identification that the sounds are no more than a by-product of something as harmless as it is human: _p_ _leasure_.

Yunho stands frozen, then, as the realization truly sinks into his bones, now nothing but rigid, immovable constructions of his body, holding onto the handle like a lifeline.

Yunho knows he should leave in this very instant - not disregard Mingi’s right for privacy in such a delicate moment, allow Mingi to drink in his noises to his own liking, and most importantly, not draw any sort of strange inspirations from this experience himself. He cannot move from the spot, however, in fear of discovery at but a small creak in the floorboards, or a step too haste not to be overheard.

Warmth fills his cheeks, and Yunho presses his eyes closed as if it would help him focus on anything, everything else that was not the breathy moaning of his best friend, not the shuffling of blankets as no doubt a body writhes atop of them, and yet, it is all that engulfs him, involuntarily, shamefully, and Yunho’s breath turns rugged at the mere thought a devil procures.

Louder now, is both the panting and groaning and moaning, and Yunho wonders how he has never heard it before, why tonight must be the night for him to be punished like this, when moon-induced insomnia is already his greatest nemesis. Slowly, carefully, Yunho unfurls his fingers from where a grip had been so strong, withdrawing the disgraceful hand that must take care of Yunho’s growing problem, having arisen in spite of himself, unable to fend off the attraction and the want and the despicable desire.

If only Yunho were a better man, above his most senseless, most reckless of _l_ _usts_ , then he could pretend as though he has not been subject to these sounds, and go to bed with horrific thoughts to calm down from the heights of arousal, to a bearable, yet still distracting amount of abashment.

But there is one call, one word, that has him cease in his attempts at flight, wave him back from his walk of shame before Yunho could bow his head and retreat to his room.

“ _Yunho…_ ” 

A broken whimper, and Yunho feels his soul leaving his body. How Yunho’s vivid imagination believes it to be an amusement to play such devastating tricks on him right now, is beyond Yunho’s comprehension, especially as all of his brainpower is currently otherwise occupied to keep Yunho from combusting on the spot.

“ _Yunho, please…_ ”

Mingi’s voice is honey-smooth, his tone so desperate, a melody flowing through the door to make his pulse rise to an unhealthy tempo, and Yunho must bite his tongue to swallow down a groan that climbs up his throat to match in desperation.

Yunho should go, should leave, should forget the song on Mingi’s lips, composed with his name on his tongue, should go, go, go--

Yunho knocks, courteous even though it might just be too late for manners, and opens the door to a fraction, then another, until he is peeking into the semi-darkness of Mingi’s room, the moon mocking him from high up in the sky, casting a white glow onto Mingi’s naked skin, even as he scrambles for his comforter to cover himself. Mingi cannot conceal the shock at being caught nor the ruggedness of his breathing, the irregular, hurried rise and fall of his chest, clad in a white t-shirt. Boxer shorts lie on the floor, haphazardly discarded to search for liberating pleasure.

“I heard you,” Yunho begins, eyes as wide as Mingi’s, not too far from the size of the moon, “I heard you call my name.”

Yunho could not deny how affected he is, if Mingi asked him - rough is his voice, he is shaking in all of his body parts, and his grey pair of boxers must not do a good job at hiding his own half-hard cock beneath the fabric. Mingi does not answer him, head running at a mile a minute, but Yunho watches as Mingi’s eyes do an uncertain stumble, land further below than would be conventionally appropriate, though Yunho expects half as much from a man who had shown no reserves of moaning his name mere seconds ago.

This precarious situation, brought on by himself, is filled with unprecedented sexual energy, a tension Yunho has never felt before, and Yunho is aware that one of them must make a move towards a decision, or else the aftermath will tear them to shreds.

“Would you like to--”

“Can I help?”

Their eyes meet over hasty questions, lungs collapsing in relief, in embarrassment, then fervent nods are exchanged and a dam _breaks_ , as an abundance of nerves tickles the sole of Yunho’s feet, until all of a sudden, he is sitting beside Song Mingi on his bed, hands reaching out to touch with abandon.

His fingertips begin their journey on Mingi’s cheeks, face drifting closer as Mingi openly marvels at his expression, while Yunho explores every square centimeter of a man he knows so well, so intimately, though never quite like this - he is touched by the moonlight, a serendipitous silver where he is a glorious gold in the sunlight. Yunho lies down when his hand travels further south, circling a sensitive nub through thin fabric, reveling in the breath of surprise Mingi releases at the touch.

Yunho’s hands feel like they burn into Mingi’s skin, then, following the lines of his stomach - sensitive, he notes, twitching underneath feather-light strokes - until the covers of the blanket forbid him passage, and Yunho does not waste his time to ask, eyes locked with Mingi’s, “Can I?”

Mingi raises his hand into the air, palm landing against the back of Yunho’s neck, pulling him in, in, in, until their foreheads fall together, and there is but a gasp left between them. Mingi’s fingers scratch at Yunho’s hair, gently and softly, as his mouth whispers an impossibly enthusiastic, “Yes, please.”

Heat is the first thing to greet him underneath, all-encompassing and intoxicating, and his hand finally discovers what it has been looking for all along - Yunho’s eyes do not leave Mingi’s for a single second as he wraps his hand around Mingi’s cock at last, hard and slick with pre-cum, and Yunho squeezes, just to test it out, feels Mingi pant before him, eyes closing as a new wave of an overwhelming sensation overcomes him.

“You good?” Yunho asks, a smile blooming on his features that seeks no mockery, half in awe that such a simple thing elicited a reaction so addicting, Yunho is eager, so incredibly eager, to repeat it, do more and more and more until Mingi squirms beneath him and proves to him that Yunho is the only one he would be so willing to succumb to. Mingi nods his answer, urges Yunho on, asks for, “please, please, _more_ ,” and who is Yunho to deny such sweet demands.

It is when Yunho starts moving his hand, up and down and up and down, that the magic unfolds before him, and Mingi starts to sing his delights in the most beautiful moans Yunho has ever heard, almost as if following the rhythm Yunho has set for him, high notes whimpered as Yunho flicks his thumb over the head of Mingi’s cock, gathering more of that wetness to make the slide smoother, easier, even more pleasurable for Mingi who is already losing his mind at the steady strokes.

In return, Mingi writhes so wonderfully, back arching to chase after the touch and fuck into Yunho’s hand, asking for it again and again, Yunho does not have it within himself to resist any longer - he leans down, tasting the groans and whimpers off Mingi’s lips, swallowing them whole to sink into the realms of self-indulgence. For his own cock has fully stirred within the confines of his boxer shorts, as Yunho intends to make a mess of himself rubbing his clothed dick against Mingi’s sheets in pursuit of his climax.

His hips start their movement despite himself, making him grunt low, low in his throat as his kisses turn sloppier and sloppier - his primary focus remains with Mingi, bucking up into Yunho’s palm to help himself reach the much-desired, heavily-awaited orgasm, chanting Yunho’s name in-between breaths and kisses and making Yunho dizzy with want, dizzy with lust - dizzy with _l_ _ove_.

Yunho is content like this, stroking Mingi’s cock faster now, whimpers flying higher, perhaps even joining the moon up in the sky, and it no longer seems so taunting to Yunho, now that Mingi has changed his entire view with a few deep, searing kisses, and the vulnerability that has allowed them this invaluable opportunity at intimacy.

Mingi’s nails dig into Yunho’s skin where his grip is still tight around the nape of his neck, making Yunho gasp into his mouth, letting his head fall back into the light rush of pain, gratifying in a sense he would have never thought capable, though with Mingi, the impossible becomes reality tonight, and Yunho could never question fate during a fever. Yunho retaliates with another experiment, biting Mingi’s lower lip, not too harshly, not too hard, and it has Mingi yell out in a lustful scream. 

Naturally, Yunho is left wondering if, maybe, both of them are happy to invite teasing bites and scratches into the intensity of their togetherness, and moves away from Mingi’s mouth, kissing a trail down Mingi’s neck before he decides on such a sweet spot of open skin, he does not wait to ask against hot flesh, “Can I mark you?”

And right there, right at this fixed point in time, one Yunho knows he shall remember for this life and the next, there appears to be a brief moment of clarity; Mingi draws him back up to eye-level, and Yunho’s hand stills its movements in response, fearing he might have asked the wrong question and ruined everything.

Mingi recognizes the fear within his irises, lets his hand wander to Yunho’s cheek to soothe his nerves with unbidden caresses and, Yunho remembers Mingi as the kind soul he truly is, in states of less debauchery, and images of his best friend surface in his head, of the one person he entrusts with everything, who entrusts him with everything.

There is no doubt in either of their minds that this - whatever spur of the moment sort of thing it may be - this means something to them both, means care and attention and love, and Mingi, as it turns out, merely wishes for it to be mutually beneficial.

“Take off your clothes,” Mingi breathes his demand. 

Yunho follows the order in an instant, leaving a shuddering Mingi behind as his hand falls from Mingi’s cock, cool air hitting bare skin when Yunho pushes the comforter back in his haste to rid himself of his clothes.

He watches Mingi sit up and do the same, then, enthralled by the body beneath and the soul within, and Mingi pulls him back in by his arms and into his lap, and it feels like a throne to Yunho, his rightful place to be, and when Mingi starts planting kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, Yunho is worshipped as a king.

At some point, Yunho registers Mingi fiddling with a bottle of lube, previously hidden underneath his pillow, and Yunho laughs when Mingi fails to open it with his one free hand, occupied with other activities that cloud his mind and influence his sleight just so, but Yunho kisses his nose and takes the bottle away, grinning as Mingi pouts.

Once Mingi has allowed Yunho to be of help and forgiven him for his slight teasing, Mingi is soon spreading a good amount of lube between his fingers to warm it up, all the while picking up where he had left off distracting Yunho from the wait, gasping as their bodies grind against one another, lust intertwining with love just as their limbs do.

When Mingi is sure to wrap his hand around both of their cocks, Yunho ascends to heaven, becoming a God.

Yunho’s body shakes with the relief of being touched so divinely at last, and Mingi too cannot hold back the moan falling from his lips. Yunho drinks it up as Mingi’s hand begins to move in similar strokes as he had done not too long ago, and now it is Yunho falling apart in Mingi’s hold, clutching his hair and his shoulder and pulling at Mingi at every turn, at every flick, at every push--until their kisses are no more than ragged pants and broken moans.

“Mingi, _f_ _uck_ , you feel so good,” Yunho cries, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he hides his face in the crook of Mingi’s neck, nibbling at the skin there like a man of greed, never quite satiated of Mingi’s taste.

“You, too, Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, weak at the tingles Yunho is sending through his skin and into his spine, all the way through his entire body, his entire soul, until Yunho knows he is felt everywhere, not just in the physical world. Yunho replays the sweetness of his name in his head, fully indulging in the hazy emotions it spreads within him.

For a man who would have never thought it a possibility to have Mingi to himself quite like this, have Mingi move and bend and break for him, Yunho is so, so determined to repay Mingi for the gentleness he offers to him now, wishes to be as vocal as he is capable, and he cannot bring himself to be flustered about it when Mingi kisses him so lovingly.

Perhaps, just this once, the moon does not laugh at Yunho for his inability to sleep, and merely wished to give him gentle shoves in the right direction, into a situation where he could no longer ignore his budding feelings but make something of them.

Now, Mingi whispers, voice trembling, “I’m close, Yunho, love,” and Yunho finds that he is approaching his climax just as fast, as Mingi speeds up his hand and Yunho’s grinding grows frantic, uncoordinated, lost in pleasure, and suddenly their bodies fall into a celestial dance, one among the stars, where their vision is obscured and all that matters is the warmth in their arms, the heart in their hands.

Yunho has no choice but to surrender to Mingi, and Mingi does nothing short for him in return.

They catch their breath together, with a few unhurried kisses shared between two unsuspecting lovers, giggling freely whenever an aftershock has the waves ripple. It is crazy to Yunho, how he could have missed this, missed Mingi's affections even as they were so plainly before him - how Mingi looks at him, how his eyes shine with so much love, it has all escaped Yunho’s notice, if only because he had wished to spare himself a rejection that would not have come.

He feels it, at this moment, with Mingi, basking in the afterglow of their love-making, as spontaneous and absurd the circumstances that have finally brought them here, he feels Mingi’s endearment even as he is laid down into the sheets, cleaned with tender care and attentiveness, then sharper still as Mingi pulls him onto his chest, and then it is just the two of them once more - naked skin against naked skin, heat still simmering at their core, and now Yunho cannot let it all lay dormant within him any longer.

“I would have never thought to have you like this,” Yunho confesses, gazing up at Mingi. “Not in this life. I thought I would only get to love you in silence.”

“If you ask me,” Mingi begins, reaching for one of Yunho’s hand to intertwine their fingers, raising it to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to Yunho’s knuckles, “in any life, I will meet you and love you. Like _this_. All you have to do is ask.”

“I love you, Song Mingi,” Yunho proclaims in a whisper, fearful that it might not be enough to touch Mingi’s heart. To make sure of it, Yunho kisses him, hoping the kiss will translate what he cannot yet form into words.

Mingi understands him, Mingi hears him.

“I love you, too, Jeong Yunho.”

For the first time in this life, the moon smiles upon one Jeong Yunho and allows him to fall asleep, satisfied with this life, in the arms of someone he deserves to call his love.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sooooooooo how'd you like it? lemme know with a kudo and a comment, don't be shy, we are all horny for love and horny in general. all in varying degrees, but we should be proud of it. :> (also this is my first time writing smut, so if you can spare some validation, id be eternally grateful)
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sangiebyheart) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sangiebyheart)


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